If Sunday Was An Ant

Oh Lord. Today is Monday. It HAS to be because Sundays are NOT supposed to be like this. Sundays should be the day where you laze around in your underwear and contemplate the absolute necessity of shaving your legs. But it's not that kind of Sunday. Nope. At least not for me. Today's Sunday for me actually started Saturday night. After a rousing kinda-sorta argument with the man, he informed me that he would NOT be feeding the munchkin before he went to bed. He was exhausted, had had a bad day and was just going to shower and go to bed. Mind you, he never asked me how MY day was. Because if he had I would have told him that his daughter cried most of the day, slept for a whole 2 hours, and spit up gobs and gobs of thick milky JUNK all over me - ALL DAY. But he didn't ask me. So I didn't tell him. I simply stared, secretly wished my eyes had death lasers in them, and then went to prepare the bottle. HE showered and went to bed. Munchkin thought it wise to remain consistent. So rather than throw mommy for a loop and actually keep some of her dinner down and go right back to sleep, she continued with the spit up and the crying. Now before someone quips 'maybe she's allergic to the formula' or 'maybe she has reflux' or 'maybe she just wasn't feeling well', let me stop you and ask you to try this one on for size....maybe mommy already exhausted all those options and narrowed it down to she is not tolerating the red dye in her Mylicon (dumbass me got the "Original" formula this time because they were out of the dye-free formula - GIGANTIC mistake). So....daddy's ass is clean and he is snoring and mommy reeks of baby innards and dirty hair. Oh - I guess I didn't tell you that due to fussy - scratch that - PISSED OFF baby, mommy didn't get a shower all day. Munchkin didn't actually finally fall asleep until 2:48 this morning. Yep. That's right. 2:48 A.M. That's precisely how my Sunday started last night.

So in my extension of last night, I woke up to the sound of a fussing munchkin at 7:51 a.m.. Ok. I'm grateful for my 5 hours and 3 minutes of eye closure (because I refuse to refer to THAT as sleep), but I wasn't necessarily thrilled to be the one getting up with her. However, the man ALSO made clear last night that he wanted to SLEEP today. S-L-E-E-P. So needless to say that when I woke up this morning I really wanted to pry open his eye, piss in it and tell him to sleep on THAT. But I didn't. I went to the fussing bundle of joy and did what good mommies do.....fed her while planning my escape in my head. I needed to get out of that house before EVERYONE and EVERYTHING got pissed on.....because in case you couldn't tell...I'm really not feelin' it today.

Feeding the munchkin proved to be much less expletive invoking than yesterday and she went down fairly easier too. I had a brief pausing thought that this day might turn around after all. Then I went to make coffee. Forgot my coffee maker is still broken. *&^$^! But it's okay, I thought...I wanted to get out anyway so I'll just get dressed and go out for coffee...and ooohhhh a cupcake....Today is definitely a cupcake day, and I am craving a strawberry filled cupcake from Ooh La La. So I got dressed, packed my bag, checked on the munchkin, and advised still sleeping man that I am stepping out and the munchkin is asleep in her room. Now because he sleeps like a grizzly bear in hibernation I made sure to turn the monitor up EXTRA LOUD in case she wakes up. Hey - it's better than pissing in his eye. And so I'm off - but wait - not before I put gas in the car that the man left on E. But it's okay...it's a pit stop...I'm gonna have cupcakes and coffee this morning so IT'S OKAY. I put the gas in the car and head out to Ooh La La, tasting the creamy, sweet goodness all the way there. I actually had a daydream of myself on the way over there. I was being handed the cupcake, and as I took it from the girl behind the counter the cupcake came to life, looked me in the eye, winked and blew me a kiss. It had been waiting for me too. Oh I couldn't wait to get there, and as I got closer I felt the stress of the past 2 days sliding away. Things were about to get soooo much better.

Ooh La WHAT THE F***!!!!!!!!!

CLOSED??? CLOSED?????!!!!!! MOTHERF***IN' CLOSED???????

I'm so done. I hate you Sunday. I think you're an evil bastard whose sole purpose is to bring me to my breaking point and then crush me a little more. If you were an ant I would light you on fire with a magnifying glass and the evil death rays of the sun.

But you're not. So I think the man may just have to go blind in one eye today.

Sunday, you are dead to me....we are NOT friends. Come correct next week.

A SPECIAL GREETING FROM FRAN DRESCHER

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